Iliad. Homer. A. T. Murray (Translator). London. 1924-1925.
Sponsored by Perseus Project, Tufts University.
Funding provided by The Annenberg CPB/Project.
Iliad. Homer. A. T. Murray (Translator). London. 1924-1925.
Sponsored by Perseus Project, Tufts University.
Funding provided by The Annenberg CPB/Project.
Iliad (English) (Homer. The Iliad, Volume 1-2. Murray, A. T. (Augustus Taber), translator. London: William Heinmann; New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1924-1925.)
These lines function as an arming scene, as 10.254–272 did for Diomedes and Odysseus. Lord (1960/2000:89–91) uses arming scenes from Iliad 3.328–338, 11.15–55, 16.130–154, and 19.369–391 as examples of a traditional theme in Greek oral epic, and demonstrates that this theme can be expanded or compressed as the singer sees fit. Lord notes that, in Iliad 3, the arming of Paris is given in some detail, while the parallel arming of Menelaos is compressed into a single line. (That compression is what we find in the manuscripts that survive, but we should note that there is an expanded description in a third-century BCE papyrus—Allen’s papyrus 40, Hibeh 19—of the arming of Menelaos, comprising four lines, all in traditional language, but the individual pieces of armor are put on in a different order from what we find in the other surviving arming scenes.) When we compare the earlier arming scene with this one, we also see that the arming scene of Diomedes and Odysseus is described at greater length than that of Dolon here. In addition to that more expanded arming scene, the details of Dolon’s equipment are also reminiscent of the night dressing scenes earlier in the episode (see 10.21–24, 10.29–31, and 10.177–178), since Dolon puts on his animal skin now to leave for his mission, while Agamemnon, Menelaos, and Diomedes had put on theirs when rising from bed. It does not seem that Diomedes wears his lion skin while on the mission, although he is twice compared to a lion (10.297 and 10.485). The cap Dolon wears is similar to that worn by Diomedes in that it is made of animal skin (κυνέην), but instead of being made from a bull’s hide, it is made from a marten (κτιδέην). The details of his equipment will be revisited when Odysseus and Diomedes strip Dolon’s corpse (see 10.458–459).
κρατὶ δ᾽ ἐπὶ κτιδέην κυνέην
Dolon’s helmet, like those worn by Diomedes and Odysseus on this night, is made of animal hide rather than metal, as is appropriate to maneuvers in the dark. It provides stealth, whereas metal can reflect whatever light is available and give an ambusher away. (See on 10.257 and our essay “The Poetics of Ambush” for a full discussion.) The animal from whose hide Dolon’s cap is made, the ἴκτις, is the marten, a member of the weasel family. It is tempting to make the connection that, by wearing this helmet, Dolon is being characterized as “weasely.” (About this animal but not this passage, Aristotle notes that the ἴκτις has the “wickedness of character like the weasel,” History of Animals 612b10.) Even with that ancient testimony, however, we need to be careful not to make assumptions about associations with this animal in Homeric epic. This helmet is the only mention of the marten in our Homeric texts, so we can only speculate about what the associations might have been. The significance may instead be that this omnivorous animal hunts at night (Schwanz 2000). Nicander’s Theriaca 196–197, from the second century BCE, describes the ἴκτις as an animal that kills domestic birds in their sleep, making it very much like an ambusher at night. Also, Wathelet argues that the marten, like other members of the weasel family, is perhaps known for spying (Wathelet 1989:220). If these are indeed the associations an ancient audience would make, then not only are the physical qualities of the hide appropriate to the night, but also the marten’s characteristics mark Dolon as a “creature of the night.”
βῆ δ᾽ ἰέναι
See on 10.32.
οὐδ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ἔμελλεν / ἐλθὼν ἐκ νηῶν ἂψ Ἕκτορι μῦθον ἀποίσειν
Based on his experience with living singers composing in performance, Albert Lord notes that planning and a sense of the song as a whole is usual in oral poetry. Although there is pressure to compose rapidly, “In all these instances one sees also that the singer always has the end of the theme in his mind. He knows where he is going. As in the adding of one line to another, so in the adding of one element in a theme to another, the singer can stop and fondly dwell upon any single item without losing a sense of the whole. The style allows comfortably for digression or for enrichment. Once embarked upon a theme, the singer can proceed at his own pace” (Lord 1960/2000:92). The traditional nature of the story means that Dolon’s death is expected by the audience even as it is anticipated here. We also see this sort of planning in anticipation of a character’s impending death in daytime battle. We can compare, for just one example, the even longer-range planning evident in the death of Asios. Soon after Asios is introduced (Iliad 12.95–97) and begins his headstrong attack by chariot on the Achaean wall, the narrator similarly reports that Asios will not escape death or ever return to Troy because Idomeneus will kill him (Iliad 12.113–117; note the same introductory language, οὐδ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ἔμελλε, Iliad 12.113). Idomeneus does indeed kill him, but not until Iliad 13.383–393. This type of planning is not literary, but rather based in tradition: both the singer and the audience know that Idomeneus will kill Asios, so announcing it early confirms that the traditional story will be followed. By understanding this oral traditional feature, we can assume that Dolon’s lack of return follows tradition as well.
Within the ambush theme, moreover, there is a particular emphasis on the need to return. A failure to return means not only that the mission is unsuccessful, but also that the family and comrades may not know what has happened to the spy or ambusher. We see this aspect of the theme in Nestor’s words about the need to come back safely (10.212) and Diomedes’ choice of Odysseus as his partner based on Odysseus’ ability to return home (10.246–247). But we also see it in compressed versions of the theme, such as Glaukos’ narration of the ambush of Bellerophon, in which the ambushers are said not to return home because Bellerophon killed them all (Iliad 6.189–190). In this case, just as Dolon begins his mission, we are alerted already that Dolon will not be successful. This anticipation of his failure and impending death adds to the pathos inherent in the description of his family (10.317). But it also adds to the success of the Achaeans on this night: they triumph in preventing Dolon from bringing information to Hektor as well as in killing Rhesos and his comrades and stealing the horses.
ἐφράσατο
Odysseus does just what Diomedes had wanted from a partner (see above, 10.224–226): he observes first what Diomedes has not yet seen—the presence of another man out in the night. His powers of observation stand in contrast to Dolon’s lack of attention, his ἀφραδίη (10.350), which shares the same root with this verb.
One aspect of these night missions that informs the poetics of the ambush theme is the lack of sure visual knowledge in the dark. Odysseus can see someone, but cannot yet be sure who he is or why he is there. We have already seen manifestations of this aspect of ambush, such as when Nestor tells the man he cannot see well enough to recognize that he should speak out and not sneak up on him (10.82–85). Odysseus displays his talent for ambush by anticipating that this man may be the enemy and by employing a strategy that gives them the advantage. See also the section on the sensory and spatial aspects of the night in “The Poetics of Ambush.”
προτιειλεῖν is a hapax legomenon. See on 10.331 for how to understand such a linguistic phenomenon in our texts and in this book in particular.
πὰρ᾽ ἒξ ὁδοῦ
An ambusher may hide just off a road to attack someone traveling along it. In the Homeric epics we have another example of this strategy in one of Odysseus’ Cretan lies in Odyssey 13; Odysseus describes a similar position for the ambush he narrates there: ἐγγὺς ὁδοῖο λοχησάμενος (Odyssey 13.268). We also see such a place for an ambush in Pindar’s description of Herakles’ ambush of the Molione (Olympian 10.26–34, ἐφ’ ὁδῷ, 10.30). At this point we begin to see how easily a spying mission transitions into an ambush once the presence of the enemy is detected.
ἐν νεκύεσσι
See on 10.199 and 10.298 for more on corpses as a feature of the landscape on this night.
ὡς ἄρα φωνήσαντε
The dual verb form reflects the poetics of teamwork that we see beginning on 10.243. So, although Odysseus is the only one quoted, the two ambushers are still spoken of in the dual, which may also imply Diomedes’ affirmative response. But see our note on this line in the textual commentary on the Venetus A for evidence of another possible way to perform this line.
ἀλλ’ ὅτε δή ῥ’ ἀπέην ὅσσόν τ’ ἐπί οὖρα πέλονται / ἡμιόνων
The distance of the mule’s plow range seems to take us out of the realm of war and into a farming setting, but when we look at other instances in Homeric epic of this description of distance, it takes us rather into the world of athletics. During the funeral games for Patroklos, this same word οὖρα is used for the distance of a discus throw of a young man, and it serves as a point of comparison for the distance during which Antilokhos’ horses were even with those of Menelaos (Iliad 23.431–433). And in the games on Phaeacia in the Odyssey, it is used to describe by how much Klytoneos won the footrace (Odyssey 8.123–125). Since we find many similarities of language between this section of Iliad 10 and Iliad 22 (see below on 10.363–368), we might also compare from that episode how Achilles’ chase of Hektor is compared to both a footrace and a chariot race at a hero’s funeral games, but with Hektor’s life as a prize (Iliad 22.157–166). Here, too, begins a “footrace” that will end in Dolon’s death.
According to the Townley scholia, Aristarchus understood this elaboration on the length of the furrow as redefining the length meant here. It is not the length of a standard furrow, but rather the difference in distance between that which a team of mules would plough and that which a team of oxen would—according to Aristarchus, mules are faster (presumably that is how we should understand προφερέστεραι). The fact that no reference to oxen appears in the comparison to the mules’ furrow at Odyssey 8.123–125 may suggest that here it is indeed a difference in length. As we try to understand the comparison and envision what this distance represents, we should also consider the poetics of night missions: Odysseus’ strategy is to let Dolon pass them by so that they can run up behind him and prevent his escape, but they also cannot lose sight of him. That factor may speak in favor of the shorter distance that Aristarchus proposes. See also Scott 1974:20–24 on Homeric similes describing measurement in general.
Odysseus’ plan also works to their advantage in another way—because they are now behind Dolon, that is, because they are coming at him from the same direction he has just come, he assumes they must be Trojans. The fact that he stops momentarily allows them to catch the swift-footed Dolon. Another of the sensory aspects of the night that is part of these poetics is the primacy of the sense of hearing. Yet, what one hears requires correct interpretation. In the next two lines, Dolon will realize that he has fatally misinterpreted what he heard as his sight contradicts his supposition.
ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δή ῥ᾽ ἄπεσαν δουρηνεκὲς ἢ καὶ ἔλασσον
As at 10.351, here distance is expressed through comparison. Scott observes that in the Homeric epics, “Similes of distance are the most numerous type of approximate measure” (Scott 1974:21). Since Diomedes will indeed throw his spear at Dolon (10.372–374), this comparison also seems to anticipate how far they remain apart during the chase. The distance of a spear cast is used to picture other distances, such as the length of the pathway by which Apollo bridges the Achaean ditch (Iliad 15.358–360), the length of Achilles’ leap away from the river Xanthos as it pursues him (Iliad 21.251), and how far the Trojans give way to the Achaean charge (Iliad 16.589–592: there, the spear cast may be either in battle or in athletic games, compare 10.351–352 above).
καρχαρόδοντε δύω κύνε εἰδότε
The dual forms that the text of the Venetus A manuscript records for the hunting dogs in this simile seem to emphasize the coordinated attack by the dogs and, by association, by Diomedes and Odysseus. We often see dual forms used for these two in this book (see also on 10.243), and we find dual forms used in another simile elsewhere when the Aiante are compared to two lions in the dual as they fight together (Iliad 13.198–202). Some manuscripts, however, record the plural κύνες instead.
As Diomedes and Odysseus start to pursue Dolon, they are compared to hunting dogs chasing after prey. Scott (1974:72–73) has identified hunting as a traditional subject matter for Homeric similes. In several similes, dogs accompanying hunters may confront powerful animals such as lions or boars (e.g. Iliad 8.337–342, 11.292–295, 12.41–49). But other similes are closer to what we have here: dogs chasing after weaker, non-predatory animals such as fawns or hares. In two similes in the Iliad that have this structure, at Iliad 15.579–581 (Antilokhos pouncing on Melanippos) and Iliad 22.188–193 (Achilles pursuing Hektor), a fawn has been chased from its lair (ἐξ εὐνῆφι, Iliad 15.580; ἐξ εὐνῆς, Iliad 22.190). We have seen above (10.5–9) how the adjective pukinos connects the ideas of an animal’s lair and ambush, and εὐνή means a ‘lair’ for a fawn, but a ‘bed’ for humans, further connecting the idea to night and sleeping. The animal in this simile has not explicitly been chased from its lair, but the association may be a traditional one for this kind of hunting simile, and it reverses the position of the ambusher and the ambushed, just as Dolon’s position of spy has now been reversed to the one being spied.
We can also compare this simile to the one likening the watchmen to guard dogs at 10.180–189. Although both similes compare the men to dogs, we can see in the differences of detail how similes are attached to and elaborate themes in this oral tradition (see also 10.5–9 for our detailed discussion of Homeric similes). At 10.180–189 the theme is one of being on the defensive against a night attack. Here, the Achaeans are the ones on the attack, and so the simile shows dogs acting in a different manner. That dogs are featured as the vehicle in both instances shows the flexibility and multiformity of Homeric similes.
ἢ κεμάδ᾽ ἠὲ λαγωὸν
Providing alternative possibilities is a traditional feature of Homeric similes (Muellner 1990:62–64). κέμας is a hapax legomenon, but λαγωός appears in two other contexts, both related to this one in different ways. It appears in another simile, as Hektor swoops at Achilles like an eagle at a lamb or a hare (Iliad 22.308–310, note here also the alternatives for the prey). We can compare also the hunting dog simile at Iliad 22.188–193 as Achilles pursues Hektor. As we will see further at 10.363–368, this scene shares language in common with Iliad 22; so also in these two similes, the object of the chase or attack in both places can be a hare. The other place we see a similar alternation of the object of a hunting dog’s pursuit is in a description of an actual hunt rather than a simile: Odysseus’ dog Argos is described as having hunted wild goats and deer and hares (Odyssey 17.295) when he was younger.
ὃ πτολίπορθος Ὀδυσσεὺς
This epithet, “sacker of cities,” is one that Odysseus often receives in the Odyssey, but he also shares it with other heroes, like Achilles, and war gods, such as Ares and Enyo, within the tradition. Parry has shown that such epithets belong to the whole tradition and not any one line (MHV 137–138, 146, 171): that is, Odysseus is a sacker of cities within the whole tradition, not simply, or in this line, not yet at this particular point in the story. Similarly, Haft (1990) argues that this epithet, used frequently in the Odyssey, but only here and at Iliad 2.278 in the Iliad, implies that the audience would be familiar with Odysseus’ later exploits, especially his role in sacking Troy through the ambush strategy of the Wooden Horse, and thus would understand the epithet to mean the sacker of Troy in particular. In this last detail, she disagrees with Parry, who labels this epithet generic (MHV 146). Haft argues that the use of the definite article with the epithet makes its meaning more specific (see also above on 10.231). Haft also draws parallels and connections between the ambushes in Iliad 10 and the sack of Troy (Haft 1990:51–55).
This “chase scene” has language in common with the scene in which Achilles chases the fleeing Hektor in Iliad 22. The same formula is used for the departure of the one who will be chased (λαιψηρὰ δὲ γούνατ’ ἐνώμα, Iliad 10.358 and 22.144). The move Odysseus and Diomedes employ here to isolate Dolon and cut him off from the warriors (λαοῦ ἀποτμήξαντε, 10.364) is like the move Andromache, who knows her military strategy, imagines that Achilles might use to cut Hektor off from the city and force him to the open plain (δείδω μὴ δή μοι θρασὺν Ἕκτορα δῖος Ἀχιλλεὺς / μοῦνον ἀποτμήξας πόλιος πεδίον δὲ δίηται, Iliad 22.455–456). When Dolon is approaching the guards’ post, Athena puts menos into Diomedes so that he can capture Dolon before anyone else (10.365–368). Similarly, while Achilles is pursuing Hektor, he signals to the other Achaeans not to shoot at Hektor and win his radiant glory (Iliad 22.205–207). In both cases the formula ὃ δὲ δεύτερος ἔλθῃ / ἔλθοι is used (Iliad 10.368, 22.207). These similarities indicate two things about the language in this section of Iliad 10: one, that this scene is expressed with traditional language, and, two, that there is kudos ‘radiant glory’ for capturing or killing a spy, just as there is for being one (see above, 10.307). Using such language gives the competitiveness to be “first” in this case traditional associations with a hot, yet focused, pursuit of a significant individual enemy.
δουρί
This spear is the one Diomedes brings with him when he leaves his shelter at 10.178; it is not mentioned again in the arming scene at 10.255–295.
There is a pronounced shift in mood in Rhapsody 10. Unlike the narratives in the rest of the Iliad, this narrative focuses on how heroes behave at nighttime, as distinct from daytime. What dominates now is a poetics of ambush, which is a different kind of warfare. And a prime exponent of such poetics is the wolfish figure of Dolon. My comments here on Rhapsody 10 are mere supplements to the extensive commentary of Dué and Ebbott 2010.
Dolon. Detail from an Attic red-figure lekythos (460 BCE). Image via Wikimedia Commons.
333-335. mvp-comment-132-1 10.333–335 These lines function as an arming scene, as 10.254–272 did for Diomedes and Odysseus. Lord (1960/2000:89–91) uses arming scenes from Iliad 3.328–338, 11.15–55, 16.130–154, and 19.369–391 as examples of a traditional theme in Greek oral epic, and demonstrates that this theme can be expanded or compressed as the singer sees fit. Lord notes that, in Iliad 3, the arming of Paris is given in some detail, while the parallel arming of Menelaos is compressed into a single line. (That compression is what we find in the manuscripts that survive, but we should note that there is an expanded description in a third-century BCE papyrus—Allen’s papyrus 40, Hibeh 19—of the arming of Menelaos, comprising four lines, all in traditional language, but the individual pieces of armor are put on in a different order from what we find in the other surviving arming scenes.) When we compare the earlier arming scene with this one, we also see that the arming scene of Diomedes and Odysseus is described at greater length than that of Dolon here. In addition to that more expanded arming scene, the details of Dolon’s equipment are also reminiscent of the night dressing scenes earlier in the episode (see 10.21–24, 10.29–31, and 10.177–178), since Dolon puts on his animal skin now to leave for his mission, while Agamemnon, Menelaos, and Diomedes had put on theirs when rising from bed. It does not seem that Diomedes wears his lion skin while on the mission, although he is twice compared to a lion (10.297 and 10.485). The cap Dolon wears is similar to that worn by Diomedes in that it is made of animal skin ( κυνέην), but instead of being made from a bull’s hide, it is made from a marten ( κτιδέην). The details of his equipment will be revisited when Odysseus and Diomedes strip Dolon’s corpse (see 10.458–459).
335. mvp-comment-135-1 10.335 κρατὶ δ᾽ ἐπὶ κτιδέην κυνέην Dolon’s helmet, like those worn by Diomedes and Odysseus on this night, is made of animal hide rather than metal, as is appropriate to maneuvers in the dark. It provides stealth, whereas metal can reflect whatever light is available and give an ambusher away. (See on 10.257 and our essay “The Poetics of Ambush” for a full discussion.) The animal from whose hide Dolon’s cap is made, the ἴκτις, is the marten, a member of the weasel family. It is tempting to make the connection that, by wearing this helmet, Dolon is being characterized as “weasely.” (About this animal but not this passage, Aristotle notes that the ἴκτις has the “wickedness of character like the weasel,” History of Animals 612b10.) Even with that ancient testimony, however, we need to be careful not to make assumptions about associations with this animal in Homeric epic. This helmet is the only mention of the marten in our Homeric texts, so we can only speculate about what the associations might have been. The significance may instead be that this omnivorous animal hunts at night (Schwanz 2000). Nicander’s Theriaca 196–197, from the second century BCE, describes the ἴκτις as an animal that kills domestic birds in their sleep, making it very much like an ambusher at night. Also, Wathelet argues that the marten, like other members of the weasel family, is perhaps known for spying (Wathelet 1989:220). If these are indeed the associations an ancient audience would make, then not only are the physical qualities of the hide appropriate to the night, but also the marten’s characteristics mark Dolon as a “creature of the night.”
336. mvp-comment-136-1 10.336 βῆ δ᾽ ἰέναι See on 10.32.
336-337. mvp-comment-137-1 10.336–337 οὐδ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ἔμελλεν / ἐλθὼν ἐκ νηῶν ἂψ Ἕκτορι μῦθον ἀποίσειν Based on his experience with living singers composing in performance, Albert Lord notes that planning and a sense of the song as a whole is usual in oral poetry. Although there is pressure to compose rapidly, “In all these instances one sees also that the singer always has the end of the theme in his mind. He knows where he is going. As in the adding of one line to another, so in the adding of one element in a theme to another, the singer can stop and fondly dwell upon any single item without losing a sense of the whole. The style allows comfortably for digression or for enrichment. Once embarked upon a theme, the singer can proceed at his own pace” (Lord 1960/2000:92). The traditional nature of the story means that Dolon’s death is expected by the audience even as it is anticipated here. We also see this sort of planning in anticipation of a character’s impending death in daytime battle. We can compare, for just one example, the even longer-range planning evident in the death of Asios. Soon after Asios is introduced ( Iliad 12.95–97) and begins his headstrong attack by chariot on the Achaean wall, the narrator similarly reports that Asios will not escape death or ever return to Troy because Idomeneus will kill him ( Iliad 12.113–117; note the same introductory language, οὐδ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ἔμελλε, Iliad 12.113). Idomeneus does indeed kill him, but not until Iliad 13.383–393. This type of planning is not literary, but rather based in tradition: both the singer and the audience know that Idomeneus will kill Asios, so announcing it early confirms that the traditional story will be followed. By understanding this oral traditional feature, we can assume that Dolon’s lack of return follows tradition as well.
336-337. mvp-comment-137-2 Within the ambush theme, moreover, there is a particular emphasis on the need to return. A failure to return means not only that the mission is unsuccessful, but also that the family and comrades may not know what has happened to the spy or ambusher. We see this aspect of the theme in Nestor’s words about the need to come back safely (10.212) and Diomedes’ choice of Odysseus as his partner based on Odysseus’ ability to return home (10.246–247). But we also see it in compressed versions of the theme, such as Glaukos’ narration of the ambush of Bellerophon, in which the ambushers are said not to return home because Bellerophon killed them all ( Iliad 6.189–190). In this case, just as Dolon begins his mission, we are alerted already that Dolon will not be successful. This anticipation of his failure and impending death adds to the pathos inherent in the description of his family (10.317). But it also adds to the success of the Achaeans on this night: they triumph in preventing Dolon from bringing information to Hektor as well as in killing Rhesos and his comrades and stealing the horses.
339. mvp-comment-138-1 10.339 ἐφράσατο Odysseus does just what Diomedes had wanted from a partner (see above, 10.224–226): he observes first what Diomedes has not yet seen—the presence of another man out in the night. His powers of observation stand in contrast to Dolon’s lack of attention, his ἀφραδίη (10.350), which shares the same root with this verb.
341-343. mvp-comment-139-1 10.341–343 One aspect of these night missions that informs the poetics of the ambush theme is the lack of sure visual knowledge in the dark. Odysseus can see someone, but cannot yet be sure who he is or why he is there. We have already seen manifestations of this aspect of ambush, such as when Nestor tells the man he cannot see well enough to recognize that he should speak out and not sneak up on him (10.82–85). Odysseus displays his talent for ambush by anticipating that this man may be the enemy and by employing a strategy that gives them the advantage. See also the section on the sensory and spatial aspects of the night in “The Poetics of Ambush.”
347. mvp-comment-140-1 10.347 προτιειλεῖν is a hapax legomenon. See on 10.331 for how to understand such a linguistic phenomenon in our texts and in this book in particular.
349. mvp-comment-141-1 10.349 ὡς ἄρα φωνήσαντε The dual verb form reflects the poetics of teamwork that we see beginning on 10.243. So, although Odysseus is the only one quoted, the two ambushers are still spoken of in the dual, which may also imply Diomedes’ affirmative response. But see our note on this line in the textual commentary on the Venetus A for evidence of another possible way to perform this line.
349. mvp-comment-141-2 10.349 πὰρ᾽ ἒξ ὁδοῦ An ambusher may hide just off a road to attack someone traveling along it. In the Homeric epics we have another example of this strategy in one of Odysseus’ Cretan lies in Odyssey 13; Odysseus describes a similar position for the ambush he narrates there: ἐγγὺς ὁδοῖο λοχησάμενος ( Odyssey 13.268). We also see such a place for an ambush in Pindar’s description of Herakles’ ambush of the Molione ( Olympian 10.26–34, ἐφ’ ὁδῷ, 10.30). At this point we begin to see how easily a spying mission transitions into an ambush once the presence of the enemy is detected.
349. mvp-comment-141-3 10.349 ἐν νεκύεσσι See on 10.199 and 10.298 for more on corpses as a feature of the landscape on this night.
351-352. mvp-comment-142-1 10.351–352 ἀλλ’ ὅτε δή ῥ’ ἀπέην ὅσσόν τ’ ἐπί οὖρα πέλονται / ἡμιόνων The distance of the mule’s plow range seems to take us out of the realm of war and into a farming setting, but when we look at other instances in Homeric epic of this description of distance, it takes us rather into the world of athletics. During the funeral games for Patroklos, this same word οὖρα is used for the distance of a discus throw of a young man, and it serves as a point of comparison for the distance during which Antilokhos’ horses were even with those of Menelaos ( Iliad 23.431–433). And in the games on Phaeacia in the Odyssey, it is used to describe by how much Klytoneos won the footrace ( Odyssey 8.123–125). Since we find many similarities of language between this section of Iliad 10 and Iliad 22 (see below on 10.363–368), we might also compare from that episode how Achilles’ chase of Hektor is compared to both a footrace and a chariot race at a hero’s funeral games, but with Hektor’s life as a prize ( Iliad 22.157–166). Here, too, begins a “footrace” that will end in Dolon’s death.
352-353. mvp-comment-143-1 10.352–353 According to the Townley scholia, Aristarchus understood this elaboration on the length of the furrow as redefining the length meant here. It is not the length of a standard furrow, but rather the difference in distance between that which a team of mules would plough and that which a team of oxen would—according to Aristarchus, mules are faster (presumably that is how we should understand προφερέστεραι). The fact that no reference to oxen appears in the comparison to the mules’ furrow at Odyssey 8.123–125 may suggest that here it is indeed a difference in length. As we try to understand the comparison and envision what this distance represents, we should also consider the poetics of night missions: Odysseus’ strategy is to let Dolon pass them by so that they can run up behind him and prevent his escape, but they also cannot lose sight of him. That factor may speak in favor of the shorter distance that Aristarchus proposes. See also Scott 1974:20–24 on Homeric similes describing measurement in general.
354-356. mvp-comment-144-1 10.354–356 Odysseus’ plan also works to their advantage in another way—because they are now behind Dolon, that is, because they are coming at him from the same direction he has just come, he assumes they must be Trojans. The fact that he stops momentarily allows them to catch the swift-footed Dolon. Another of the sensory aspects of the night that is part of these poetics is the primacy of the sense of hearing. Yet, what one hears requires correct interpretation. In the next two lines, Dolon will realize that he has fatally misinterpreted what he heard as his sight contradicts his supposition.
357. mvp-comment-145-1 10.357 ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δή ῥ᾽ ἄπεσαν δουρηνεκὲς ἢ καὶ ἔλασσον As at 10.351, here distance is expressed through comparison. Scott observes that in the Homeric epics, “Similes of distance are the most numerous type of approximate measure” (Scott 1974:21). Since Diomedes will indeed throw his spear at Dolon (10.372–374), this comparison also seems to anticipate how far they remain apart during the chase. The distance of a spear cast is used to picture other distances, such as the length of the pathway by which Apollo bridges the Achaean ditch ( Iliad 15.358–360), the length of Achilles’ leap away from the river Xanthos as it pursues him ( Iliad 21.251), and how far the Trojans give way to the Achaean charge ( Iliad 16.589–592: there, the spear cast may be either in battle or in athletic games, compare 10.351–352 above).
360-363. mvp-comment-146-1 10.360–363 As Diomedes and Odysseus start to pursue Dolon, they are compared to hunting dogs chasing after prey. Scott (1974:72–73) has identified hunting as a traditional subject matter for Homeric similes. In several similes, dogs accompanying hunters may confront powerful animals such as lions or boars (e.g. Iliad 8.337–342, 11.292–295, 12.41–49). But other similes are closer to what we have here: dogs chasing after weaker, non-predatory animals such as fawns or hares. In two similes in the Iliad that have this structure, at Iliad 15.579–581 (Antilokhos pouncing on Melanippos) and Iliad 22.188–193 (Achilles pursuing Hektor), a fawn has been chased from its lair ( ἐξ εὐνῆφι, Iliad 15.580; ἐξ εὐνῆς, Iliad 22.190). We have seen above (10.5–9) how the adjective pukinos connects the ideas of an animal’s lair and ambush, and εὐνή means a ‘lair’ for a fawn, but a ‘bed’ for humans, further connecting the idea to night and sleeping. The animal in this simile has not explicitly been chased from its lair, but the association may be a traditional one for this kind of hunting simile, and it reverses the position of the ambusher and the ambushed, just as Dolon’s position of spy has now been reversed to the one being spied.
360-363. mvp-comment-146-2 We can also compare this simile to the one likening the watchmen to guard dogs at 10.180–189. Although both similes compare the men to dogs, we can see in the differences of detail how similes are attached to and elaborate themes in this oral tradition (see also 10.5–9 for our detailed discussion of Homeric similes). At 10.180–189 the theme is one of being on the defensive against a night attack. Here, the Achaeans are the ones on the attack, and so the simile shows dogs acting in a different manner. That dogs are featured as the vehicle in both instances shows the flexibility and multiformity of Homeric similes.
360. mvp-comment-147-1 10.360 καρχαρόδοντε δύω κύνε εἰδότε The dual forms that the text of the Venetus A manuscript records for the hunting dogs in this simile seem to emphasize the coordinated attack by the dogs and, by association, by Diomedes and Odysseus. We often see dual forms used for these two in this book (see also on 10.243), and we find dual forms used in another simile elsewhere when the Aiante are compared to two lions in the dual as they fight together ( Iliad 13.198–202). Some manuscripts, however, record the plural κύνες instead.
361. mvp-comment-148-1 10.361 ἢ κεμάδ᾽ ἠὲ λαγωὸν Providing alternative possibilities is a traditional feature of Homeric similes (Muellner 1990:62–64). κέμας is a hapax legomenon, but λαγωός appears in two other contexts, both related to this one in different ways. It appears in another simile, as Hektor swoops at Achilles like an eagle at a lamb or a hare ( Iliad 22.308–310, note here also the alternatives for the prey). We can compare also the hunting dog simile at Iliad 22.188–193 as Achilles pursues Hektor. As we will see further at 10.363–368, this scene shares language in common with Iliad 22; so also in these two similes, the object of the chase or attack in both places can be a hare. The other place we see a similar alternation of the object of a hunting dog’s pursuit is in a description of an actual hunt rather than a simile: Odysseus’ dog Argos is described as having hunted wild goats and deer and hares ( Odyssey 17.295) when he was younger.
363. mvp-comment-149-1 10.363 ὃ πτολίπορθος Ὀδυσσεὺς This epithet, “sacker of cities,” is one that Odysseus often receives in the Odyssey, but he also shares it with other heroes, like Achilles, and war gods, such as Ares and Enyo, within the tradition. Parry has shown that such epithets belong to the whole tradition and not any one line (MHV 137–138, 146, 171): that is, Odysseus is a sacker of cities within the whole tradition, not simply, or in this line, not yet at this particular point in the story. Similarly, Haft (1990) argues that this epithet, used frequently in the Odyssey, but only here and at Iliad 2.278 in the Iliad, implies that the audience would be familiar with Odysseus’ later exploits, especially his role in sacking Troy through the ambush strategy of the Wooden Horse, and thus would understand the epithet to mean the sacker of Troy in particular. In this last detail, she disagrees with Parry, who labels this epithet generic (MHV 146). Haft argues that the use of the definite article with the epithet makes its meaning more specific (see also above on 10.231). Haft also draws parallels and connections between the ambushes in Iliad 10 and the sack of Troy (Haft 1990:51–55).
363-368. mvp-comment-150-1 10.363–368 This “chase scene” has language in common with the scene in which Achilles chases the fleeing Hektor in Iliad 22. The same formula is used for the departure of the one who will be chased ( λαιψηρὰ δὲ γούνατ’ ἐνώμα, Iliad 10.358 and 22.144). The move Odysseus and Diomedes employ here to isolate Dolon and cut him off from the warriors ( λαοῦ ἀποτμήξαντε, 10.364) is like the move Andromache, who knows her military strategy, imagines that Achilles might use to cut Hektor off from the city and force him to the open plain ( δείδω μὴ δή μοι θρασὺν Ἕκτορα δῖος Ἀχιλλεὺς / μοῦνον ἀποτμήξας πόλιος πεδίον δὲ δίηται, Iliad 22.455–456). When Dolon is approaching the guards’ post, Athena puts menos into Diomedes so that he can capture Dolon before anyone else (10.365–368). Similarly, while Achilles is pursuing Hektor, he signals to the other Achaeans not to shoot at Hektor and win his radiant glory ( Iliad 22.205–207). In both cases the formula ὃ δὲ δεύτερος ἔλθῃ / ἔλθοι is used ( Iliad 10.368, 22.207). These similarities indicate two things about the language in this section of Iliad 10: one, that this scene is expressed with traditional language, and, two, that there is kudos ‘radiant glory’ for capturing or killing a spy, just as there is for being one (see above, 10.307). Using such language gives the competitiveness to be “first” in this case traditional associations with a hot, yet focused, pursuit of a significant individual enemy.
369. mvp-comment-151-1 10.369 δουρί This spear is the one Diomedes brings with him when he leaves his shelter at 10.178; it is not mentioned again in the arming scene at 10.255–295.